The 7:37
by all-maps-welcome
Summary: "She felt like she wanted to know him. She wanted to know why he picked Pride and Prejudice. She wanted to know what caused those deep lines on his forehead. She wanted to know what his hair felt like in her fingers." For Clara, the 7:37am rush hour train to London is the start of whirlwind romance where she gets a little more than she bargained for. TwelveClara AU (M for later)
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Well, nice to see you all again! I thought it was about time I got back into writing again and this idea has been with me FOREVER. I finally managed to get it out and now I've been looking forward to publishing it. It's my first TwelveClara multi-chap fic, and I hope it lives up to the standards of everyone else's amazing writing. I hope this alleviates all the TwelveClara pain now our favourites aren't together on our screens. Please let me know your thoughts in the reviews. Enjoy! Ax_

 **Chapter One**

Clara was on the 7:37am rush hour train to London when she noticed him.

He looked grumpy and tired as he squeezed past other commuters and into the seat opposite her. He was wearing a deep maroon shirt, buttoned up to his neck, and a thick navy trench coat with a delicious red lining. He shuffled about a bit in his seat, sighed and then ran his hand through his fluffy grey curls, making them stick up at a funny angle, which made Clara smile ever so slightly. Out of his satchel he pulled a battered old book with bent corners, a creased spine and yellowing pages. Clara tilted her head slightly to read the front - Pride and Prejudice. Interesting. The man slid horn-rimmed glasses on to his face and Clara noticed how defined his features were - a strong jawline, deep expressive eyebrows, soft creases around his eyes. There was something compelling about him that Clara just couldn't put her finger on.

Then the man's eyes snapped up from his book and met hers. Clara felt her heart jump in her chest as his steely blue-grey eyes almost stripped her bare with one gaze. His mouth twitched into an almost grin, his big, expressive eyebrows twitched almost flirtily, and then his eyes went back to his novel. Clara felt her face flush and she quickly looked back at her own book, wondering why this stranger was having such an effect on her.

She felt like she wanted to know him. She wanted to know why he picked Pride and Prejudice. She wanted to know what caused those deep lines on his forehead. She wanted to know what his hair felt like in her fingers.

Clara spent the rest of the journey stealing glances at the man opposite her; admiring his long fingers wrapped around the pages of his book and the tendons in his neck which disappeared under his collar. He was older, certainly, but he was one of the few who had clearly aged with grace. As part of her desperately tried to think of a way to say hello, the other part of her was accepting the fact she probably would never see this man again.

As her final stop drew near, she sighed and took the cowards way out. She took one last glance at this mysterious man before gathering her things and shuffling awkwardly out of her seat and towards the doors of the train with the other commuters.

As she emerged into the London air, her mind must have still been with the stranger on the train, as she got caught up with the bustle of impatient commuters and ended up dropping her book and half the contents of her bag on the pavement. As she crouched in the street, stuffing make-up and coins and used receipts back into her bag, a pair of hands swooped down beside her and scooped up her book. Clara looked up quickly to see the man from the train standing beside her, gripping her Charles Dickens novel.

"Great Expectations." he said in a soft Scottish drawl, his thumb grazing the worn pages. "One of Charlie's best."

Clara smiled a little at his comment, desperately trying to ease the flutter in her stomach. The way the words rolled off his tongue in that accent was divine.

"I think so too," she said, way more confidently than she felt.

Then suddenly he was holding a hand out to her. It took Clara a few seconds to realise he was offering to help her up but when she finally wrapped her fingers around his hand she felt the crackle of electricity. Once she was upright and standing face to face with him, she realised how tall he was. Her head only came up to the base of his throat and she had to tilt her neck to look at him. Despite their coolness in colour, Clara could see a hint of warm affection hidden in his eyes. He smiled and handed her book back.

"Thank you." It was all she could say as all other words seemed to get stuck in her throat.

He nodded and then went to turn in the opposite direction but Clara quickly found her voice. She couldn't feel like this about a complete stranger and just let him walk off. She didn't know if she believed in fate or luck or God, but she didn't think it was a coincidence that he had stopped to help her. She believed there was something drawing him to her and that couldn't be ignored.

"Pride and Prejudice," she said quickly, loud enough for him to hear.

The man turned round again and Clara saw the flash of red under his coat.

"Pardon?"

Clara took a tiny step towards him. "Your book, on the train. Why Pride and Prejudice?"

He smiled a small smile and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Let's just say I can relate to Mr Darcy,"

Clara felt her courage suddenly grow. "I always had a soft spot for Mr Darcy," she said, feeling her cheeks flush as the words left her mouth.

He smiled slightly and looked at her intensely, as if trying to work out if she was really flirting with him or not. She definitely was.

After a small silence, Clara was suddenly aware that he probably had places to be.

"I won't hold you up any longer," she said, waving slightly as she began to move in the opposite direction, already beginning to berate herself for acting a fool.

"Same train tomorrow?"

This time it was her turn to spin round. "Pardon?"

"Will you get the same train tomorrow?" he asked, looking down at his shoes, like shyness had suddenly overcome him.

"I will," Clara said, trying to contain her grin.

"Ok. Good. Well, I suppose I'll see you then."

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 _AN: More soon! Please review!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The next morning, rather than focussing on her book as usual, Clara's eyes were darting around the platform, looking for a grey-haired book lover with intense eyes. She felt her heart fill with disappointment when she couldn't spot him. As she shuffled in to the train and slid into a seat, she hoped one of the empty seats around her would be taken by the mysterious stranger she'd met yesterday. Clara had spent all of the previous day thinking about this man and all the untold stories behind his eyes and his half-smile.

As the empty seats filled up and the man was nowhere to be seen, Clara's mood instantly shifted. She had been so excited to see him again, maybe talk a little more. But maybe he was just a fleeting moment in her life; ships passing in the night, paths aligning oh so briefly before carrying on their course. Clara sighed and tried to bury her thoughts with Charles Dickens until she reached London.

Once she reached the capital, the weather had turned as sour as her mood. Outside the station the heavens had opened and commuters flocked for shelter, or rushed to get their umbrellas up. Clara tried to route around in her bag for her umbrella, but found nothing. Great. She was going to get soaked. She was just about geared up to brave the cold rain, a tall figure slid up beside her and held a large black umbrella over her. Clara looked up in surprise and was greeted by the man who had been occupying her thoughts all morning. He had a thick grey coat on and a black scarf wrapped loosely around his neck and Clara could almost feel the warmth radiating from his body next to her. He smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling a little and Clara couldn't help but smile in return.

"Hello," she said, finally finding her voice.

"Hello," he replied. Clara had never realised just how much she loved the Scottish accent. "Which way are you walking?"

"Oh, I'm turning right, not too far, just near Regents Park,"

"I'll walk with you, keep you dry," he said, nodding his head towards the dark skies and heavy London rain.

"You don't have to do that," she said, "Aren't you going in the opposite direction?"

He looked down at her again, eyes sinking into hers and another smile tugging at his mouth. "I can take the long way around."

As they walked out into the wet, Clara could only just about hear the rain drumming above her head over the heartbeat in her chest. Their arms and hips brushed as they both tried to shelter from the rain, but he didn't seem to mind so much. To Clara's surprise, he was the first one to break the silence.

"I thought I might have missed you this morning," he said, leaning down slightly so she could hear him over the rain. "I was running a bit behind schedule, almost missed the train entirely."

"Well, I was keeping a special eye out for a certain Jane Austen novel this morning in coach C," said Clara with a small smile. Understatement maybe.

"You've read it before?" he asked.

"Of course," said Clara "Along with every other woman on the planet. I think it's sort of a rite of passage."

He breathed a soft laugh that Clara thought was slightly adorable.

"So does your taste in literature stray any further than Austen and Charlie Dickens?" he asked and Clara could tell he was genuinely interested.

"I love the classics, I love 20s literature and poetry and romance," she said, "but give me a good mystery novel and I'm anybody's."

She looked up at him with a smile on her lips and found him looking back at her, intrigued, like he was trying to figure her out. Clara felt a blush creep up her neck, so turned to look back at the pavement.

"What about you?" she asked "What takes your fancy?"

He quirked one of those expressive eyebrows at her, and his silence made Clara look up again, and then she realised her poor wording.

"Oh, I...I mean, I mean books, what books do you like?"

"I know what you meant," he said with a smile and Clara thought she felt him shift a little closer as they squeezed past other commuters rushing through the rain.

"I'll read pretty much anything," he said "but I love the classics the most, and mystery too. I like to try and figure out whodunnit before the people in the book."

Clara laughed and he looked down at her.

"What?"

"Oh nothing," she said "I just can't remember the last time I discussed books with someone at 8'o'clock in the morning." She smiled warmly. "It's lovely."

"Yeah, me neither."

As they reached Clara's block of offices, they took shelter under the doorway and Clara turned to stand in front of him, looking at his face properly for the first time that day. He really was very handsome. Deep set eyes, a slight shadow of stubble on his chin, and dimples at the corner of his mouth. His grey hair was slightly damp, curling against the side of his face and Clara wanted to run her fingers through it.

"Thank you for walking with me..." she said and then stopped, breathing a soft embarrassed laugh. "I'm sorry, I don't even know your name?"

He smiled and extended his free hand. "Doctor."

Clara wrapped her fingers around his hand, feeling warm skin and bony fingers and a spark of electricity. Then her brow knitted together.

"Doctor? Doctor who?"

He smiled as if he'd heard that response a thousand times before.

"Just the Doctor,"

Clara thought about it. "Doctor," she said, trying it out. "I like it."

The Doctor grinned, eyes connecting with hers as if he was looking right into her. If she felt right, his thumb grazed over her knuckles ever so softly.

"Clara," she said, "Clara Oswald."

"Clara Oswald," he said slowly, and Clara almost shivered when her name rolled off his Scottish tongue. "I like it."

Clara felt her face flush and regrettably let go of his warm hand. She wished she could stay out in the rain with him all day.

"So Clara Oswald, will I see you again tomorrow morning?" he asked, looking a bit shy again and shuffling on his feet.

She smiled. "Yes, I imagine you will. Thank you again, Doctor." She was just about to disappear into the building, when his voice stopped her again.

"Wait," he called, and Clara turned to look at him again. He looked a bit nervous, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "Look, I'm not very good at this, but...I-I was just wondering if I could maybe have your phone number? I just enjoyed our conversation, and I don't really talk to too many people so it was nice, and you're really very pretty and-"

Clara stopped his rambling with a hand on his arm. Her heart was thrumming in her chest but she found his nervousness adorable, like a teenager asking a girl to dance. Maybe under those fierce eyebrows and intense stare was a soft and sensitive soul. She rather believed there was.

"You can have my number as long as I can have yours," she said, and she almost saw the relief in his eyes and his smile was enough to cancel out the cold dark weather.

They swapped phones, punched in their numbers, and then said goodbye. Clara turned back as she entered her building and watched the grey coat and black umbrella blend into the crowds again. She grinned and looked down at the new number in her phone under 'Doctor' and for once she couldn't wait to be on that rush hour train tomorrow morning.

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 _More soon! Please review :)_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N - Thank you for all the lovely comments so far! It's extremely encouraging. This chapter is a little longer but we see things develop a bit more...**_

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

The next few days passed by, and Clara hadn't seen her new Scottish friend, nor had she had a call or text from him. As she left London behind on Friday evening, she thought about texting him first.

 _Hey Doctor_ She typed out and then quickly deleted. _Hey, it's Clara, the girl you saved from the rain a few days ago!_ She deleted that too. _Has Mr Darcy made his move yet?_ She sighed, shook her head and deleted that too before slipping her phone back into her pocket. Maybe she'd never see him again. Maybe she hoped too much.

Just as she stepped off the train, Clara's phone rang. She scrambled to get it out of her pocket but sighed when she read her friend's name instead.

"Hi Amy," she said, trying to hide her disappointment.

"Clara! Are you still going to come round tonight? I know it was just supposed to be a quiet night but Rory has gone and invited some people from work who he's trying to impress and so it's turned into a bit of a thing - dinner and drinks and stuff - I hope you don't mind…"

Clara laughed. She could probably do with a good natter with her best friend. "Yeah, course I'll be there. I'll pick up some wine and come straight over."

A short while later she was knocking on the door of Amy's house clutching some white wine.

Amy wrenched the door open. "Oh, thank goodness you're here," she said, almost sighing in relief as Clare stepped inside.

"Why, what's going on?" she said, shaking off her jacket. Just then she heard raucous laughter from the other room. Amy rolled her eyes.

"Rory asked all these guys from the hospital over. I think he's trying to impress them so he can make Head Nurse next year. They've been talking doctor-y stuff all evening and I'm already tired of pretending like I know what they're talking about."

Clara laughed. "Well, I'm glad to be here to save you."

They walked through to the kitchen and Clara spotted Rory talking to three older men.

"…And then I said, 'But what if it's just high blood pressure'!" The other men all laughed and Clara spotted Amy rolling her eyes again.

Then Rory noticed Clara. "Ah, Clara, come and meet everyone. Everyone, this is my wife's friend Clara Oswald."

The three men turned around and Clara's breath got stuck in her throat when her eyes met the same steely blue gaze as the man who'd been taking up all of her thoughts. For a split second, it was like they were the only two people in the room.

"Oh, hello", she said, finally finding her voice and waving a little at them.

"This is Doctor Peter Reynolds, Doctor Eric Lehman, and Doctor John Smith."

Just then, _her_ Doctor piped up.

"We've met before actually." He said, his Scottish brogue not failing to send a shiver down her spine, his eyes never leaving hers.

One of the other doctors laughed. "John, when have you been meeting pretty young women?"

"Just on the train to London. We had a lovely chat about books."

Clara smiled, feeling her cheeks redden and heart stutter. There was something about Doctor John Smith that made her feel like a love-struck teenager again.

The sexual tension in the room was thick, but Rory quickly broke the spell by shepherding the three Doctors outside to look his new decking.

"What was that?!" whispered Amy, swatting Clara's arm with the back of her hand. "How do you know the sexy Scotsman?"

"Amy, you're a married woman," laughed Clara, still watching the Doctor moving about outside, listening intently to Rory, unable to believe he was really here. "I just…bumped into him, I suppose. He saved me from the rain outside the train station, we talked a bit, even swapped numbers…"

"What?! Clara, you never tell me anything anymore!"

"I was going to tell you tonight! I was going to have a moan about how I hadn't heard from this guy since we exchanged numbers and whether I should make the first move because he's all I've been thinking about! Then here he is standing in your bloody kitchen!"

Clara looked over at Amy and they both broke out in laughter. "Well, come on then," said Amy, handing Clara a glass of wine, "Tell me everything."

Half a bottle of wine later, Amy had gone to find Rory and stop him talking too much about which new lawnmower he should buy. Clara was in the kitchen, hunting down a glass to get herself some water. Just as she was stretching to a high cupboard for one, she felt a warm hand on the small of her back and another reach around her.

"Here, let me,"

Startled, Clara squeaked a little and turned her head. "Oh, Doctor, you scared me half to death!" she said, spinning around to face him.

He gave her a boyish grin and she melted a tiny bit. Clara marvelled at just how tall he was next to her and how good he looked. He had a navy blue t-shirt on under a dark blazer, the faintest shadow of stubble on his chin and his thick grey curls had been tamed just enough. Clara shook her head, hoping he hadn't noticed her eyes devouring him.

Smiling, she took the glass from him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome,"

Clara thought he might disappear again, but he leant his hip up against the counter next to her, folding his arms across his chest.

"Fancy seeing you here," he said, "It's a small world really, isn't it? How do you know Rory?"

"Oh, I've been friends with Amy, his wife, since we were at University, so I've known Rory almost as long. I live just around the corner so I see them all the time still. What about you?"

The Doctor looked out into the garden where Rory and Amy were still talking to the others.

"I'm a cardiologist at St. Moore's Hospital- been there nearly 25 years now, and young Rory has been working with me on a few of my latest cases. He's a good egg is Rory, not like most of the pudding-brains in that place."

Clara laughed. "Cardiology…that's the heart, right?"

He nodded. "It is indeed - the most important muscle; it beats 100,000 times a day, pumps 1.5 gallons of blood around 60,000 miles of blood vessels every minute, has it's own electrical supply and delivers oxygen and nutrients to 75 trillion cells. It starts beating at 4 weeks after conception and doesn't stop until you die. If that's not amazing, I don't know what is."

Clara was staring at him, a smile on her face as she absorbed the energy and passion this man clearly had for his work. He was wonderfully adorable.

He laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, like he did when he asked for her phone number.

"I'm sorry - I went off on one a bit there and it's probably terribly boring for you. Forgive me."

"No, no, it's not boring at all," said Clara quickly "I think it's fascinating, actually, and it's so refreshing to hear someone talk so passionately about what they do." Then a thought crossed her mind. "Wait, if you work at the hospital, why did I bump into you on a train to London twice this week then?"

"Oh, well I'm currently teaching a little at the UCL Medical School, just for a few days a week,"

Clara looked down into her empty glass. "So is that why I haven't seen you on the train for a few days?" she said, desperately hoping she didn't sound as pathetic as she thought she did.

"Yes, I'm sorry - when I said 'see you tomorrow' I really meant it. Unfortunately a few things…got in the way and I needed to be here."

Clara looked up at him and he moved a little closer to her. His aftershave was delicious.

"Can I make it up to you, Clara Oswald?" he said quietly.

Clara felt goosebumps ripple across her skin and her name fell from his lips. She grinned. "I'd like that."

He smiled back. "Good."

"So why didn't you want to tell me your name?"

Clara and the Doctor were sitting next to each other at the table - which Clara imagined Amy might be responsible for - as they and the rest of the group tucked into a lasagne made by Rory, but they were wrapped up in their own intimate conversation whilst the others discussed organ donors and football fixtures.

"I did tell you my name,"

"No you didn't, you said 'Just the Doctor'", she said, trying to imitate his Scottish accent.

He laughed and quirked and eyebrow at her. "Wait, was that a Scottish or Russian accent?"

"Don't change the subject!"

"Ok, sorry, sorry," he said, raising his hands a little in submission. He looked down at his plate and pushed some salad around, thinking. "I guess John Smith has always felt so dull. When I first went into medicine, friends just started referring to me as 'Doctor' and I suppose it stuck." He looked up at her and appeared to wince a little. "Was it terribly arrogant of me to introduce myself as 'The Doctor'?"

Clara chuckled. "No, I like it," she said, locking eyes with him "It suits you."

Just as Clara was about to ask him more about his work, one of his colleagues at the other end of the table interrupted them.

"John, stop flirting with the young woman and tell Rory about the time that bloke came in to the hospital because he thought he had two hearts…"

The Doctor blushed slightly at being caught out and gave Clara a shy glance before turning to the rest of the table, launching into his anecdote.

Clara met Amy's knowing glance across the table, which caused her own cheeks to redden and quickly look down at her plate.

Much later, everyone was still at the table drinking coffee and chatting.

"Right, I think I'll make a move," said Clara, standing up. "Thank you for a lovely evening everyone."

"How are you getting home?" asked the Doctor, looking up at her.

"Oh, I was just going to walk. I'm only around the corner."

"Is that a good idea, Clara?" said Amy, starting to gather up cups and plates "It's really late."

The Doctor stood up quickly. "I'll come with you, walk you back."

"I'll be fine, really - I've done the walk loads of times before," she said, shrugging on her coat "I don't want to interrupt your evening."

"I insist," he said, in a tone that made Clara think terribly inappropriate things. "I'd only worry if you went alone and I was planning on walking home myself anyway."

"I think you should listen to John, Clara," said Amy, a tiny grin on her lips "Better safe than sorry."

Clara rolled her eyes at her friend and then turned back to the Doctor who was already pulling on his black overcoat. "Thank you, Doctor, that would be very kind of you."

He smiled. "Not a problem. Let's go."

Clara was the first one to break the silence as they walked along under the streetlights.

"Thank you for walking me home - you really didn't have to,"

"I know," he said, "I wanted to."

Clara smiled. "Well, it was very gentlemanly of you to offer."

"To be honest," he said, lowering his voice even though there was no-one else around "I was just a fed up of talking lawnmowers and sports - not really my bag." Clara laughed. "Oh, I see, I was just an escape route, was I?"

He grinned. "You could say that,"

Clara nudged him with her elbow.

"You could _also_ say that I wanted to have an intelligent conversation whilst walking a beautiful woman home," he said, glancing down at her.

A smile tugged at her lips. "Good save."

They spent the rest of the short walk debating the role of the character 'Joe' in Great Expectations, and got so caught up that Clara nearly walked straight past her house.

"This is me," she said as they stopped at the bottom of the steps leading up to her front door. "Told you it wasn't too far."

"Far enough to warrant a chaperone."

"Do you have miles to walk now?" she said, biting her lip, feeling a bit guilty, even though she'd enjoyed their walk.

He glanced around, trying to get his bearings. "Erm, no, I didn't realise where we were, but I'm actually just a few streets up that way, round the other side of the park."

"Will you send me a text when you get home?"

He smiled, and looked down at his shoes. "It's been a long time since someone's said that to me." he said, and Clara thought there was a sadness behind his smile that told her there was so much more to this man than met the eye. He looked up at her. "But yes, I will let you know that I didn't get murdered in an alleyway or eaten to death by squirrels in the park."

Clara chuckled and gazed up at him. This brilliant man she was only just getting to know. Before she could overthink it, she gripped his coat lapel and went up on her tip-toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you for walking me home, Doctor."

The Doctor swallowed, his eyes fluttering open again. "My pleasure, Clara Oswald."

A small wave and a small smile later, Clara was inside her front door, grinning like a idiot and wondering when she'd see the Doctor again.

Before she got into bed, she had two text alerts. One from Amy:

 _Hope you had a nice stroll home with lover boy - you must tell me everything tomorrow! xx_

And one from the Doctor:

 _Managed to avoid those pesky squirrels and made it home in one piece. It was a lovely surprise to see you tonight. Dr. x_

Clara smiled, switched off her light and typed back in the dark.

 _I had a lovely evening. Maybe I'll see you on the 7:37 on Monday morning. Goodnight! x_

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 ** _Thanks for reading! Do leave a review if you can :) More soon!_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N - Thank you for all your lovely comments!**_

 **Chapter Four**

Monday morning rolled around quickly, and before she knew it, Clara was back standing on Platform 1, waiting for the 7:37 to London. She'd been keeping an eye out for the Doctor but hadn't spotted him. The train pulled in and commuters filed on. Damn, no more seats left today. Just as Clara has resigned to standing, her phone buzzed and she grinned when she saw the Doctor's name on the screen.

 _I'm on the 7:37. Coach B. I've saved you a seat. Dr x_

Clara smiled and then shuffled past others, moving up to Coach B from where she was standing. She spotted the Doctor's fluffy grey hair first, his head buried in his book as he cleverly straddled two seats. As if sensing her presence, his head shot up and smiled broadly at her. He tilted his head, beckoning her over silently. Clara shuffled into the seat next to him, whispering apologies to the other commuters as she squeezed past. Only when she was sat down did she look up at him properly.

"Hello," she whispered.

"Morning," he whispered back, a smile tugging at his lips.

Clara was acutely aware of how close they were. The small seats meant from shoulder to thigh, she was pressed against the Doctor's side and she could feel the warmth radiating from him.

He leaned his head a little closer to hers. "Are we breaking all of the 'Commuter Rules' if we talk, do you think?" he whispered.

Clara laughed quietly and looked around at the other silent commuters. "Maybe," she said "But I don't care."

He grinned. "I was hoping I'd bump into you this morning," he said, his fingers nervously twiddling a button on his overcoat.

"Oh yes?"

He fidgeted a bit. "I…I have an unexpected free evening tonight, and I thought…I guess I wondered, if maybe…" He looked around a bit and lowered his voice to a deep whisper. "I wondered if you'd have dinner with me tonight?"

Clara smiled, her insides doing flips. "I'd love to," she answered.

The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief, which made Clara giggle. He was adorable.

"Great," he said finally. "I'm lecturing until 6.30 this evening, but maybe you could meet me at the Medical School and we can go from there?"

"Sounds perfect."

Clara had hardly been able to concentrate all day - she kept catching herself grinning like an idiot, wondering how long it had been before she'd been on a first date. She finished work at 5pm and could barely wait any long, so decided to wander over to the UCL Medical School to see the Doctor in action.

Following the signs for the lecture hall, Clara could hear his booming Scottish voice from miles away. She pushed a door open a little, peering in. The hall was filled with students and laptops and notebooks, all eyes on the Doctor walking up and down at the front, occasionally turning to point at the presentation behind him with diagrams and pictures. Clara slipped inside the door as quietly as she could, and found a seat right on the edge of a row.

She was enjoying seeing him in his element. He talked with such ease, such grace and intellect, and the students were hanging off of his every word. Clara was surprised to find herself extremely turned on.

"So, as you can see, the right side of the heart is actually-"

He whirled around and then suddenly stopped mid-sentence, his eyes finally finding Clara's at the back of the room. He looked utterly surprised, but then smiled a little, unable to take his eyes from hers. The whole room seemed to turn around to find out what or who their lecturer was grinning at. Clara blushed, as did the Doctor.

He shook his head, trying to regain his focus.

"The right side of the heart," he said loudly, watching the heads of all the students swivel back towards him, "is actually pumping blood to the lungs, whilst the left side pumps it back into your body, like one big, coordinated machine."

The lecture ended about an hour later. Clara stayed put whilst the students filed out and the Doctor tidied up papers and his laptop at the desk. Once the room was empty, he called out to her at the back of the hall.

"Well, this is a nice surprise," he said, not looking up from the papers he was shuffling on his desk.

Clara grinned and made her way down the steps towards him.

"I had some free time after work and thought I'd come and see you in action."

He laughed. "I hope you weren't too disappointed."

Clara smiled. He was so self-deprecating.

"On the contrary," she said, leaning her hip against the desk next to him, watching his fingers toy with the paper, "I was impressed - those kids were hanging off your every word."

He looked at her intently. "There were other people here?"

Clara blushed and smiled shyly, feeling the hidden weight behind his words.

Then he shrugged and continued packing away. "They just want to pass their exam in the summer."

"Either way," she said, hopping onto the desk and swinging her legs back and forth, "watching you teach was a huge turn on."

The Doctor snapped his head up to look at her, a blush creeping onto his cheeks this time. Clara smiled cheekily at him and he laughed.

"Clara Oswald, are you flirting with me?" he teased, lowering his voice sexily.

"Most definitely."

He chuckled and finished packing away, then looked up at her, his eyes lingering on her face as he threw his bag over his shoulder.

"I'm glad you came," he said quietly, "Part of me thought you might change your mind over the course of the day."

She looked at him closely, almost falling into his eyes.

"Never." she said, watching the nervousness in his face fall away. She hopped down from the desk. "So, where are we going, Doctor?"

They started to walk up the stairs towards the exit. "I thought we'd go to this little Italian place around the corner - they have the most brilliant lasagne!"

Clara grinned. "Great! I love Italian food."

Just as they reached the doors, Clara took a bold leap and carefully slipped her hand into the Doctor's, threading her fingers through his. He looked startled, looking down at their hands and then back at her, but Clara felt him quickly relax.

"Is this ok?" she asked softly, praying he said yes because the weight and warmth of his hand felt just right.

He smiled down at her. "Most definitely."

* * *

 _ **A/N - Next up, the first date! Thanks for reading - please review if you can as it makes my day :)**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N - Thanks for all the lovely comments - you guys are the best. And now, bring on some sexual tension!**_

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

The restaurant was just what Clara imagined. Small tables with red tablecloths, soft accordion music, low lighting and candles on the tables, lots of amazing smelling pasta and good wine. The Doctor had chosen well. They were sitting opposite each other at a small table in the window, undisturbed by other diners. The Doctor looked extremely handsome in candlelight. He shrugged off his blazer, leaving him in just a dark blue button-up shirt, which hugged him in all the right places and brought out the steely colour in his eyes. His cuffs were undone and slightly rolled up, exposing his forearms. If only he knew what a simple act like taking his jacket off was doing to her.

As they waited for their meals to arrive, they talked a little about the restaurant, the wine and the Doctor's work at the hospital. Then he leaned forward, both his elbows on the table, pinning her with a glance.

"Enough about me," he said "Tell me about you, Clara Oswald."

She smiled, enjoying the way her full name rolled off his Scottish tongue.

"Ok, well, I was born in Blackpool - my Dad and Gran still live there - but I moved south to study Literature at University all those years ago. Now I work at a small publishing house in the City editing science journals - I sort of fell into it after I left University, but I've come to love it. There's something about space and stars and the vastness of science that I find wholly fascinating."

The Doctor smiled softly. "Me too. If I hadn't gone into medicine, I would have chosen physics. Though I believe they're practically the same thing…"

"I think ever since I was kid I've known there's something greater out there - something magical in the stars and planets and solar systems; the unknown. Don't you think?"

He looked at her, sinking into her eyes, and smiled. "Definitely."

Their food arrived and Clara groaned when she took a first bite of her lasagne, which made the Doctor chuckle. It was the best pasta she'd ever eaten. They ate and drank and talked about their student days, books they were reading and places they've travelled. Clara didn't want the night to end. She felt so utterly comfortable in the Doctor's company; it was as if they'd known each other years rather than weeks.

As they were finishing their wine, the Doctor was talking animatedly about when he first knew he wanted to be a doctor- about his pretend stethoscope when he was a little boy, about how in awe of doctors he was when he visited his Grandmother in the hospital as a young teenager, about how he never failed to be overwhelmed by the intricacies and mechanics of the human body.

"Did you know," he started, reaching out to take Clara's hand across the table, his warms fingers wrapping around her wrist, "that the wrist is the most complex joint in the body?"

For a moment, Clara forgot how to breathe. She held her breath and held his gaze as he cradled her hand and delicately traced the inside of her sensitive wrist with the tips of his fingers.

"All those tendons and nerves and blood vessels in such a small space."

His voice was low and quiet and Clara felt her heart flutter with arousal. Did he know what he was doing to her? This handsome man with his grey curls and his deep Scottish voice and his delicate fingers; he'd only touched her wrist and she felt like she was on fire.

"And then there's the pulse," he said, moving his long fingers to the outside of her wrist, pressing down a little. "The radial artery is close to the surface, allowing the pulse to be palpated and cardiac performance measured with just…two…fingers."

Clara gasped quietly, heart racing and arousal pooling quickly. She bit her lip and looked at him. He was looking up at her from under his eyebrows with a smouldering glare, like he wanted to rip all of her clothes off that second. Maybe it was the wine, but Clara quite liked this side of him.

"Doctor, are you flirting with me?" she said, sounding much more calm and collected than she felt.

"Most definitely," he whispered in reply, his gaze never leaving hers.

Then he looked down at her wrist. "Your pulse is very quick, Clara, are you feeling ok?"

Clara breathed a laugh. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

"It might be the wine," she teased. Then she slid her hand up, tangling their fingers together "Or it might be the company."

He smirked and then asked the waiter for the bill.

They ambled back to the station together. Clara had her arm looped through the Doctor's in both an effort to be close to him and to stay upright.

She groaned. "I should not have had so much wine on a school night. I've got to be on that train in the morning."

The Doctor laughed. "Sorry, I didn't think about that - I have the day off tomorrow."

"Oh, do you now?! So I won't even have anyone to share my pain with on the 7:37?"

"'Fraid not. Sorry!"

Clara laughed and gave him a light shove. "You don't sound very sorry!"

Then he looked at his watch.

"Damn, we're going to miss the last train - can you run?"

Clara grinned. "Of course" she said, loosening herself from him and jogging off ahead. The Doctor laughed in surprise.

"Keep up, old man," she called out teasingly.

"Old man?" he mumbled to himself. Then he ran after her.

They arrived at the station just in time. The Doctor grabbed her hand tightly and weaved them through the other people and towards the platform. Just as the guard blew his whistle, the pair darted onto the train in fits of laughter, the doors closing behind them. The last train was always busy and they were forced to stand close together by the doors.

"I can't believe how quick you are," said the Doctor, trying to catch his breath. "You've got such little legs!"

"Oi, mister! Enough of the little legs, thank you," laughed Clara, leaning back against the doors. "You kept up pretty well, although you do run a bit like a penguin!"

"I'll have you know, Miss Oswald," he said "that I used to run cross country when I was a lad,"

"Well when I need to run long distances through some Scottish fields, I'll know who to call."

The Doctor shook his head and laughed, smoothing a hand through his hair, his breathing finally back to normal. He stood in front of her, toying with the buttons of his coat again, unable to meet her eye. Clara marvelled at how he could go from this confident guy, making her squirm with arousal in a restaurant, to this adorable shy teenager so quickly. He was so beautifully complicated and Clara wanted to be the one to unravel him.

"I had a really lovely time tonight," he said softly, finally tilting his chin up to look at her again, "It's been a long time since I've laughed so much."

Clara smiled. "Me too,"

Then the train lurched to the side and the Doctor stumbled into her a bit, his hand resting on the door beside her head to catch his fall. Rather than move, the Doctor looked at her, their faces suddenly a whisper away and the sexual tension thick, and moved his other hand to her waist, thumb stroking her hip bone. God, she wanted him. His eyes darted towards her lips and his hand curled around her waist a bit more, head lowering to hers. Clara reached up and touched his cheek, almost tipping his chin towards her. Their noses brushed softly, eyes slipping closes.

"Doctor," she whispered, encouraging him, begging him to kiss her.

"Is this ok?" he breathed, the words tickling her face and he pressed her against him a little more.

She smiled. "Most definitely."

Without another second passing, the Doctor closed the gap and brushed his lips against hers slowly; testing the waters, being a gentleman. As he pulled back an inch, Clara felt his ragged breath on her lips. She smiled and nudged him with her nose, silently telling him it was ok. Clara sunk her hand into his thick hair and brought his head back down to hers, kissing him properly like she'd wanted to since she first saw him on the train. His mouth opened under hers and he completely took her breath away. Clara firmly decided that he was the best kisser she'd ever had, before she stopped thinking altogether.

As some of the other passengers started wolf-whistling, the pair broke apart and looked at each other sheepishly before bursting out laughing. The Doctor did a little bow to the rest of the carriage, but Clara swatted his arm playfully and pulled him back to her, hiding her face in his warm neck, embarrassed but filled with all the joy of a first kiss. She pulled back and he was looking at her carefully.

"Sorry," he murmured, looking down at his feet.

She looked confused. "Why are you apologising?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, I…I guess I forgot where we were and now everyone has seen you kiss a daft old man like me, but I had such a nice time tonight and-"

Clara stopped him by pulling him towards her by the edges of his coat again, kissing him softly. She pulled back and he still had his eyes closed. When they fluttered open, she smiled at him.

"Doctor," she whispered "I've been waiting for you to kiss me all night."

He seemed to relax a little bit after that. Clara wished he could see himself as she saw him - funny, intelligent, sexy as hell. One day, she'd make him realise how special he was.

* * *

 _ **More soon!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N - Overwhelmed by the response to this story so far! You're all wonderful. This is just a very short chapter, a teaser if you will, written from the Doctor's perspective this time... Enjoy!**_

 **Chapter Six**

As he walked through the door, his phone buzzed. He smiled broadly when he saw Clara's name. He'd been doing that a lot lately - smiling.

 _Thanks for a lovely afternoon - I'd forgotten how exciting it was kissing in the back row of the cinema ;) See you soon. x_

He smiled, remembering their afternoon fondly. He'd taken her to see the new Avengers movie after learning she had a soft spot for superhero films. Though towards the end, she clearly seemed more interested in him and they took advantage of the darkness to act like teenagers. He would never grow tired of kissing her.

The last few weeks had flown by and he was constantly surprised at how such a tiny person could make his heart somersault and his palms sweat and the words catch in the back of his throat. Since the first time he'd laid eyes on her on that busy train, eyes peering over her book, Clara Oswald made he feel things he hadn't felt for a very long time, and had almost written off ever feeling again. She was a perfect ray of sunshine in his cloudy day and he felt energised in her presence. She lit up the room, made him laugh, seemed truly interested in his work and had already learnt that if she threaded her fingers through his hair and scratched his scalp lightly, he'd do anything she asked.

He knew she was too good for him. She was young and pretty and intelligent and witty and he was sure she could have any man she wanted falling at her feet - they'd be stupid not to. But the odd thing was, she really seemed to like him back; seemed to enjoy his company, to find him interesting and funny, and didn't seem perturbed about the age difference. He wasn't sure he'd ever really understand what she saw in him, but by God, was he going to thank his stars ever day that he found her.

They'd seen each other quite a bit since their first proper date at the little Italian restaurant. They'd seen movies and wandered around art galleries and texted and flirted and kissed; but he wasn't quite sure what they were yet. Were they still just friends? Did Clara want something casual or was she serious about them? Did he want to be called her "boyfriend"? He sighed. He wasn't sure a man in his mid-fifties could be somebody's "boyfriend". But Clara Oswald stirred a passion inside of him that made him feel oh so much younger. All she had to do was look at him in a certain way, or take let her hair down from its ponytail, or push her glasses up her nose when she read, and he ached with desire. He wanted to watch her quiver underneath him, he wanted his name to fall from her lips in a sigh, he wanted to trace every curve with his fingertips and then his mouth and have her fall apart in his hands.

But, he was also terrified of moving too fast, of getting it wrong, of falling too hard for someone that was only passing through.

It also came down to one question - the most important question of all and one he'd never really needed to consider with anyone else: was it too soon for Clara to meet the most important person in his life?

* * *

 ** _Cliffhanger alert! Sorry! More soon!_**


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N - I couldn't leave you hanging on for too long. This was of my favourite chapters to write. Enjoy!**_

 **Chapter Seven**

It was a lovely sunny Saturday and Clara had decided that in order not to waste the day festering in front of Netflix, she'd get some fresh air and read her book in the park. She enjoyed people watching as much as she did reading, and the weather was perfect for it. She'd hoped she might get to see the Doctor today, but he'd said he had commitments this weekend so they'd have to settle for a few late-night phone calls before bed. Although Clara was a little disappointed, the rational part of her knew that some time apart was probably a good thing - they'd been spending a lot of time together lately and she didn't want to neglect her friends. Amy had been begging her to go out all week as she was desperate for the gossip on the Doctor.

Clara was a tiny bit terrified about how quickly she was falling for the Doctor. Every moment they spent together, he was a constant surprise - he was gentle and kind, funny and extremely clever, but he had this intense gaze and fire in his eyes that made Clare hot under the collar. She both wanted to spend hours talking to him about his childhood in Glasgow and being a Doctor and old movies and rock music, and also spend hours learning every crevice of his body, finding out what would make him growl her name into her ear, and discovering what shade of blue or grey his eyes were after he reached the height of pleasure.

Although they had been dancing around each other for a few weeks, they'd only shared kisses and touches so far. A few times, standing on her doorstep after dinner or the cinema or an art gallery trip, Clara had hinted at maybe continuing their conversation inside or asking him in for coffee, or tried just kissing him breathless and hoping he made the first move. But alas, each time he made his excuses and Clara was left to keep imagining how quickly his talented hands would slip her out of her underwear and how beautiful he'd look naked in her soft white sheets. Clara thought maybe he was being a gentleman - trying not to move too fast, letting her dictate the pace. But there was a niggle that kept telling her that maybe he wasn't as interested as she was. Maybe he was still unsure. Maybe she'd wildly misunderstood what they were doing.

As she strolled through the park, smiling a little at the kids running around the playground and kicking footballs and riding their bikes in circles, Clara was surprised to spot the very man who was taking up all of her thoughts sitting casually on a bench, arms folded and looking out across the park. He had dressed for the sunnier weather and looked good for it - he was wearing dark jeans with a white skull tshirt and a deep blue cardigan, dark sunglasses perched on his nose.

She grinned, excited to surprise him. As she got nearer, she called out to him. "Hey you,"

Rather than looking pleased to see her, the Doctor immediately looked agitated. At her voice, he looked both confused and shocked and he stood up quickly, looking around and walking over to her to meet her half way. He looked twitchy and nervous and Clara couldn't figure out why.

"Hello," he said, his voice giving away the fact that something was going on. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Indeed," she said, trying to gauge his mood "What are you doing here?"

He shuffled on his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, just passing through, nice day and everything, thought I'd take a break," he said quickly

Clara narrowed her eyes and reached up to touch his sunglasses. She slid them up and rested them on his head so she could look at him properly.

"You're being weird. What's wrong?"

He shook his head "Nothing, nothing, I'm fine, I was just-"

"Daddy, look at this little beetle I found!"

The Doctor closed his eyes, his sentence cut short by the small boy at his legs, a small black beetle pinched between his fingers.

Clara looked down at the boy, then up at the Doctor, her breath stuck in her throat, suddenly realising why he was acting strangely. He had a son.

The Doctor opened his eyes and watched the realisation pass across her face. He swallowed.

"Daddy, look!"

Breaking the tension, the Doctor finally crouched down.

"That's great, buddy, but we probably shouldn't smoosh them in our hands - I don't think they'd like that. Why don't you leave the little beetle and go and play in the sand again?"

Clara watched the exchange between the Doctor and the boy. The Doctor smoothed his hand through the little boys soft brown curls, pushing them from his eyes, the care and love evident in his touch. She could barely breathe.

"Ok, I'll build another sandcastle for you."

"Atta boy."

With that, the small boy in his navy shorts and white t-shirt, ran off back to the playground.

The Doctor turned back to Clara, and she hardly knew what to say. It was so much to take in so quickly. He had a son.

"Clara, please say something," he said, so quietly she barely heard him.

It was too much. She couldn't process everything with him stood in front of her like that, with the noises of children and laughing ringing in her ears.

She took a deep breath. "I should go," she said, and was just turning to leave when warm fingers caught her hand.

"Wait," he said, "Please, don't go,"

Clara sighed, letting herself be stopped by his soft voice which sounded more vulnerable than she'd ever heard him before.

"I wanted to tell you," he said, his thumb stroking her wrist softly "I really did. I…I was just waiting for the right time and I could never find the right words. I know I've been an idiot but please let me explain."

Clara turned and looked at him. He looked desperate and although Clara felt lied to and deceived and upset that he'd keep something like this from her, she knew that she at least cared about him enough to let him explain.

She led them back to the bench he was sitting on when she arrived and they sat down. They looked out at the playground and at the Doctor's son playing happily with some other kids in the big sandpit. Now Clara looked, she could see the Doctor in him. His mass of brown curls, his expressive eyes and thin nose and dimples. His father's son.

"His name is Roland - though I call him Roly, or Roly-Poly sometimes which he doesn't like so much." He breathed a soft laugh and then sighed deeply, his fingers gripping his thigh as he tensed. "His mum, my wife, River, died 5 years ago, just a few days after he was born."

Clara closed her eyes. "Oh, Doctor, I'm so sorry."

He continued. "River and I had been married over 10 years and had always thought we couldn't have kids, so I didn't expect to become a Dad at 50. But, because River was in her mid-40s, there were a lot of complications after the birth and she didn't pull through. So I was thrown into fatherhood by myself and I was terrified. My sister, Missy, has been a big help, particularly when he was a baby as I was still working quite long hours at the hospital. With River gone, it almost hurt to be at home with him."

Clara took his hand that rested on his knee, encouraging him, comforting him. He breathed deeply and curled his fingers around hers.

"I didn't really get to grieve properly at the time, because I had this tiny human that needed me to survive. I soon realised I couldn't commit to both being a full-time Doctor and looking after Roland, so I started to take more of a back-seat role in the hospital, and have only really starting picking things up again since he turned 5 and started nursery, but it's the reason I started teaching more; so I could have more time with him."

The Doctor glanced down at her. "He's my world, Clara. He's the happiest, sweetest little kid who loves spaceships and nature and books and having him has made me a better person."

Clara squeezed his hand, tears in her eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered.

He laughed wryly, looking down at their hands. "Look at me," he said "I'm a widower in my mid-fifties with a 5 year old son. If I'm not getting pitied looks, I'm being mistaken for his grandfather." He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. "I really like you, Clara. You're funny and smart and beautiful and…I guess I was worried that I'd scare you off, that you'd run in the other direction." He shook his head and looked down again. "I don't know - it all sounds stupid when I say it out loud."

Clara touched his face with her hand, thumb smoothing over his cheek, slightly rough with stubble, and waited until he met her gaze. She smiled softly.

"Do you really think that I care for you so little that I'd run away at the fact you had a son?"

The Doctor closed his eyes, a relieved sigh leaving his lips as he leant into her hand. Clara curled her fingers around his ear a little, grey locks soft against her fingers.

"I just wish you'd said sooner, that's all," she said.

He opened his eyes again and then looked out at the sandpit to check little Roland was still playing happily.

"This is all new to me, Clara - dating as a parent." He looked back at her and smiled, turning his body so he was facing her properly, his eyes scanning her face like the was memorising every freckle. She dropped her hand to his. "Since Roland was born, since River died, I've never felt for anyone else what I feel for you," he said, his voice deep and low. "So I didn't know what to do, how to bring it up, how to long to wait before introducing you-"

Clara cut him off by kissing him softly on the mouth, his words echoing in her head. _I've never felt for anyone else what I feel for you._

 _"_ I understand, Doctor," she said quietly, squeezing his hand, "I'm not going anywhere. I'll go at your pace."

His thin lips curled up into a smile and he nodded in understanding. "Thank you."

He turned his head and looked over at his son.

"Roland!" he called out.

The little boy shot his head up and the Doctor waved him over.

Clara immediately felt tense. What if he hated her? She hadn't thought of that. She didn't want to be an evil step-mother.

The Doctor kissed her cheek quickly, breaking her from her reverie.

"Stop worrying," he said, "He'll love you."

Clara smiled nervously and watched Roland running over to them.

"Dad, I built a massive sandcastle, just like the one you built at the beach that time - can you see it?"

Clara smiled. Roland was clearly besotted with his father, so keen for his approval.

"I can see it! It looks fantastic, Roly." He brushed sand off of his son's t-shirt. "Roland, there's someone I want you to say hello to - this is my friend Clara. She's really cool and also love books and space, just like you."

Roland looked at Clara and she could see the Doctor's eyes looking back at her. He was the spitting image of his Dad.

"Hello Roland," she said, smiling and holding out her hand for him.

His little hand reached out to shake hers as he looked at her carefully, taking her in.

"Hello Clara" he said quietly, clearly a little bit shy. He waited a moment, thinking. "Do you really like books and space?"

Clara grinned. "I do! My favourite thing is books _about_ space! Do you have lots of books?"

"Yes!" he said enthusiastically, his face lighting up. "I have lots in my room - Daddy reads them to me at bedtime. My favourite one is about the tiger who has tea and the one about the bear who plays piano!"

Clara laughed. "They sound great! I'd love to see them sometime, if that'd be ok?"

"We can go now! Our house is just over there!"

The Doctor laughed, brushing the hair from his son's face. "Maybe not today, Roly - I'm sure Clara has lots of important things to do, but maybe another day…?" he said, looking over at Clara in anticipation.

"Yes, of course I'll come over another day," she said, more to the Doctor than to Roland. The Doctor's soft smile made her heart soar and her chest tighten.

"Roly, do you think Clara likes ice-cream?"

Roland's face lit up again and he looked back at Clara.

"Do you?" he asked expectantly, resting his little arms on the Doctor's long legs.

"Definitely. My favourite is strawberry," she replied "with a chocolate flake!"

"I like chocolate ice-cream best, but I like the flake bit too,"

Then Clara leaned down and whispered to Roland. "Do you think your Dad will buy us some ice-cream?"

They both turned their heads and looked up at the Doctor. He rolled his eyes. "Already conspiring against me," he muttered, a glint in his eyes. "Come on then, ice cream all round."

Roland hugged his Dad's legs. "Thanks Dad,"

"Go and get your scooter, Roly, and then you can have some ice-cream,"

Roland spun on his heel and ran off to collect his blue scooter as Clara and the Doctor stood up.

Clara smiled. "Doctor, he's adorable."

"Well, he gets it from his father, doesn't he?" he teased, making Clara laugh and roll her eyes.

She turned towards him and ran her hands up his chest. "He definitely does - he looks just like you,"

He smiled bashfully, his hands touching her hips.

"You must be so proud, Doctor - you've raised such a happy, polite, clever little boy. I can't wait to get to know him."

The Doctor looked at her lovingly and then ducked his head so that he could kiss her.

"You're amazing, do you know that?" he said, pulling her into his body a little.

Then Roly was back at their sides, scooter in hand. Clara was about to jump away from the Doctor's hold, but Roland didn't seem to notice their closeness.

"Clara, look how fast I can go!" he said, and then was off again.

Clara laughed, watching Roland scoot towards the ice-cream hut. Her heart felt so full. She was being invited into this tiny family - the Doctor and Roland - who had been by themselves for so long and in such upsetting circumstances. But they were letting her in and she didn't want to make them regret it.

She touched the Doctor's hand, her fingers sliding into his. "Let's go get some ice-cream."

* * *

 ** _More soon! Please leave a review if you can :)_**


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N - Sorry for the delay with this chapter! I had everything written up to this chapter, so now the gaps between chapters might be a bit bigger than usual! Hope you enjoy this one though!**_

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

Another week passed and on Friday evening, Clara was just about to settle in for the night when her phone rang. It was the Doctor.

"Hello you," she answered, a smile creeping across her face as it did every time she spoke to him.

"Clara Oswald," he said, deep affection in his voice, "What are you up to right at this moment?"

She laughed. "Erm, nothing much really. I've just done the washing up, I was about to finish my book with a glass of wine or something. Why? Do you have other ideas?"

He chuckled. "Maybe. Open the front door."

He hung up and Clara looked confused, crossing her living room to the front door.

When she opened it, she saw The Doctor at the bottom of the steps, hands in the pockets of his black jeans, a light grey jacket over a white t-shirt which clung to him gorgeously. He was effortlessly sexy and it made Clara hot under the collar. Just then, a small person popped his head out from behind the Doctor, small hands clinging to his Dad's jacket. Roland.

The Doctor leaned down and whispered something in Roland's ear. Roland nodded and then went ahead of his Dad, climbing up the steps towards Clara. Clara crouched down to greet him properly.

"Hello Roland, this is a nice surprise," she said warmly.

Roland shuffled on his feet a bit; his father's son.

"We're going to the fair and we wanted to know if you'd like to come too?" he asked shyly.

Clara looked past him at the Doctor, leaning against the wall, legs crossed, with the same shy smile on his face as his son.

Clara grinned at Roland. "That would be lovely! Do you want to come in whilst I get my coat?"

Roland smiled a bit and then he nodded. "Yes please."

"Go on through that door there and I'll say hello to your Dad,"

As he disappeared into the house, the Doctor was approaching, climbing the steps two at a time until he was right in front of her.

"So, will you come with us?" he said, looking down at her, his gaze lingering.

She reached out and touched the edges of his jacket. "I'd love to," she said quietly, her face breaking out into a warm smile.

He looked at her intently and shuffled closer to her body. He touched her neck, this thumb grazing her jawline softly.

"Good," he whispered before leaning down to kiss her, his mouth opening hers up and his hand sinking into her silky brown hair. Clara slid her hands inside his jacket, touching the soft white cotton clinging to his hips and feeling warmth radiate from him. She stood up on her tiptoes to make up the height difference as she gave into him. She ever-so-slightly teased his tongue with hers, making him growl softly into her mouth and tighten his grip. They broke apart for air, mouths still close, foreheads touching and Clara nipped at his bottom lip playfully. She would never tire of kissing him. She felt him stroke her cheek with his thumb.

"I've wanted to do that all week," he breathed, "I've missed you, Clara Oswald."

Clara felt a rush of warmth in her chest. With his deep voice rumbling in her ear, part of her wanted to tug him inside and press him against the door and strip him from his layers and make him fall apart. Then she remembered his son was inside.

She rubbed her nose against his, hearing him inhale sharply.

"I'm really glad you came over," she whispered, curling her hands around his slim waist.

He was just about to kiss her again, when a tiny figure appeared in the doorway.

"Can we go yet?" said Roland.

"Absolutely!" said Clara, loosening her hold on the Doctor and slipping from his grasp, but not without him catching her hand and squeezing lightly first. "Let me just go and change really quickly,"

Clara disappeared into the house, and the Doctor took the opportunity to bend down and zip up his son's coat.

"Daddy," asked Roland "Do you like Clara?"

The Doctor smiled. "I do, very much," he said "Do you?"

"Yeah, she smells nice and likes books," said Roland, making the Doctor laugh. "I'm not going to kiss her like you though - that's yucky."

The Doctor chuckled, smoothing back his son's hair. "No kissing _anyone_ until you're at least 25, my boy,"

Then Clara returned with a black leather jacket, tight skinny jeans, Converse and a swipe of lipstick. The look the Doctor gave her made her flush - he looked like he wanted to devour her.

"Let's go!" said Roland, darting ahead down the steps.

The Doctor slid his hand across the small of Clara's back and kissed her cheek as they followed.

The evening air was warm still and the fair was buzzing with people, the smell of candy floss and burgers in the air and the delighted squeals of children as the rides whizzed them around.

"Which ride first, Roly?" asked The Doctor, holding hands with his son, swinging their arms playfully.

"Can we go on the Teacups? And then the ferris wheel? Ooo, and then can we go on the dodgems?"

"Woah, slow down there hot potato, I can't keep up!"

The Doctor leaned over to Clara. "How do you feel about Teacups? He likes to spin pretty fast,"

Clara grinned. "Bring it on."

After a few dizzy spells on the Teacups, the three stood in line for the dodgems.

"Can I go with Clara?" asked Roly.

Both Clara and the Doctor looked at each, surprised. The Doctor smiled.

"Yeah, sure little man. You think you can both take on your old Dad?"

Roland looked up at Clara and grinned. She held her hand up for a high-five.

"I think we'll make a great team, Roly," said Clara, and Roland nodded hitting his little palm against hers. Clara was jumping for joy the inside. For her, his request was a huge step.

As Roland turned back to look through the railings at the little electric cars bashing into each other, Clara looked up at the Doctor who was smiling softly at her.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I knew he'd love you,"

Clara's breath hitched at that word. _Love_. Was that what this was? It'd be so long for her. The tightening in the chest, the butterflies in the stomach, her head swimming with contentment every time she looked at him, the spark of electricity when he touched her. It all added up but surely it was too soon? She needed to slow her brain down, take it one step at a time.

"And then Dad got stuck in the corner and we came around the side and went BOOM!" Roly laughed with Clara, and the Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Yes, very funny, Dad got stuck which was completely unfair because that those two bigger boys kept going the wrong way and throwing me off course!"

"It's ok, Doctor," said Clara, waking backwards in front of him and grinning "It's ok to accept that Roland and I are better at dodgems - you can't be good at everything,"

The Doctor narrowed his eyes at her, his smirk giving him away. He looked over at Roland who was distracted by a man juggling nearby, and took the opportunity to pull Clara close to him by her waist.

"I can't wait to show you all the other things I'm good at," he whispered hotly in her ear.

Clara felt a rush of arousal and heat creep up her neck. The Doctor slid his hand into hers and pulled back, pinning her with another smouldering glance, before tugging her off towards the games stalls where Roland was heading.

Roland used his big blue eyes to convince the Doctor to try and win him a teddy at one of the stalls - the one where you throw three balls at some stacked tin cans. After two balls, the cans came tumbling down and Roland squeaked with joy.

"Well done, Dad!" he said, clapping his little hands together and beaming as the man held out a teddy with soft fur and a kind face. "Thank you!"

"One for the lady, sir?" the man behind the stall asked the Doctor, nodding at Clara.

The Doctor spun round to smile at her and then fished in his pockets for some more coins.

"Go on then,"

He turned back and winked at Clara, a grin on his face.

In one swift move, the Doctor knocked the middle can in the bottoms row and sent the other cans flying in all directions.

Roland clapped again and Clara laughed, clapping too as another teddy was handed to the Doctor. He turned and held it out to Clara.

"Very impressive, Doctor,"

He smirked. "Is it working?" he asked "Am I impressing you?"

She took the teddy from him and smiled back. "Yes."

She stretched up and kissed him quickly. "Thank you - he's very lovely."

"Me or the bear?" he teased.

"You're more than just very lovely."

He blushed and kissed the corner of her mouth. Then he bent down to Roland and lifted him up, placing him on his shoulders, making the little boy squeal.

"Come on you, it's WAY past your bedtime,"

Roland tried to protest, but Clara could already see him leaning down to rest his head on the Doctor's, eyes drooping and his hand clinging to his new teddy.

Together, they all started the walk back to the Doctor's house.

Whilst the Doctor put a very sleepy Roland to bed, Clara lingered in the hallway, looking at photos on the wall. Roland in a paddling pool wearing goggles and armbands and grinning at the camera; a beautiful candid shot of Roland in the Doctor's arms, little hands around his Dad's neck as the Doctor pointed out something in the sky; Roland as a baby lying on his front in the grass; and then a photo of a woman with masses of curly hair lying in a hospital bed and clutching a tiny baby in her arms - River and Roland. She looked so happy, staring down at the bundle in her arms. Clara felt tears prick in her eyes, thinking of how difficult it must have been for the Doctor to lose his wife just as he was thrown into fatherhood. He was marvellous.

"Roland wanted me to tell you: 'Thanks for coming to the fair and being my dodgems partner." The Doctor's voice pulled her from her thoughts and she turned to look at him at the other end of the hall.

She smiled as he made his way towards her.

"He's always been quite wary with other people - a bit shy, very clingy with me around others - but he's really taken to you," he said, his hands moving to her hips as he pulled her closer, looking at her affectionately. "I can't blame him,"

Clara wound her arms around his neck, stroking the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

"He's brilliant," she said "just like his Dad."

The Doctor lowered his head and kissed her; it started gently, but then his teeth grazed her lip and and he pulled her tighter against him and she was consumed by him. She sunk her hands into his hair and let his tongue into her mouth and his warm hands under the hem of her t-shirt, pressing herself against him deeply, feeling his strong chest against hers and his thigh slip between her legs.

He tilted his head and smiled against her mouth, catching his breath. She breathed a soft laugh and her eyes flickered open to look at him, catching his gaze.

"I want you so badly," he whispered, his forehead touching hers, lips still close. "I'd ask you to stay but…"

His eyes flickered down the hall.

Clara stroked his cheek and kissed him again. "It's ok," she said "I understand,"

He kissed her neck, making Clara arch into him and groan softly.

"You drive me crazy, do you know that?" he said hotly, his teeth scraping her earlobe. "I want you naked in my sheets, I want to wake up with you in the morning, I want to make you feel special, I want to make you come undone,"

"Doctor," she breathed, clinging to his neck as he pressed against her. She was about ready to burst into flames.

He kissed her again and then pulled back to look at her. "Soon, I promise."

Clara smoothed his hair back.

"God knows I wish I was in your bed right now," she said quietly and he laughed, "But there's no rush - I'm not going anywhere,"

He leaned closer, nose brushing against hers affectionately. Clara kissed his ear. "In the meantime," she whispered into it "I'll have to satisfy myself whilst I think of you,"

The Doctor groaned in frustration and Clara chuckled. She leaned back and he kissed her forehead.

"Can I call you and Mr. Bear a taxi?"

Clara looked down at the teddy she'd placed on the sideboard.

"His name isn't Mr. Bear actually,"

"What is it then?" he asked with a smile.

"John."

* * *

 ** _Thank you for all the lovely comments - they really make my day. More soon!_**


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N - Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out, but it's a nice, long one so I'll hope you'll forgive me. Things are getting heated!**_

* * *

 **Chapter Nine**

It was nearly 7pm and Clara was rushing to put in her earrings and swipe some lipstick on before the Doctor arrived to pick her up. Just as she was about to slip on her heels, her phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me," said a gruff Scottish voice.

"I'm nearly ready, I promise…"

"Clara, I'm really sorry, I can't go out tonight."

Clara sat down on her bed and frowned.

"Oh. Why? What's wrong? Is everything ok?"

She heard him sigh. "Roland is sick - I think it's just a tummy bug, but he's got a bit of a fever and is a bit upset and clingy - I just don't want to leave him with the babysitter tonight. I'm really sorry. You were probably all ready and looking forward to it and-"

Clara cut him off. "Doctor," she said "It's ok, these things happen." She heard him sigh again. "Roland needs you and I completely understand."

"You're fantastic, do you know that?" She could hear the smile in his voice.

Then in the background, Clara could hear the soft cries of Roland.

"Look, I'm gonna have to go, but I really am sorry - I'll make up for this soon, I promise."

With that, the Doctor hung up. Clara kicked off her heels and took the pins out of her hair. She'd been looking forward to going out tonight but of course she understood that Roland came first. Just as she was getting changed back into jeans and a button-up shirt, she had an idea. She grabbed her keys and left.

A short while later, she was standing outside the Doctor's door with popcorn and wine and some old films. When he opened the door, the Doctor smiled broadly. She'd never seen anyone so happy to see her before.

"Hello," he said, "This is a nice surprise."

"I thought I'd bring the date to you," said Clara, holding up the popcorn and wine.

He laughed, then looked down at his black jumper with the holes in, dark jeans and colourful socks poking out the bottom. "I don't think I'm dressed for a date,"

Clara stepped closer to him and tugged at the collar of his jumper, bringing head down so her lips just touched his. "You look perfect to me," she whispered.

The Doctor smiled against her mouth and kissed her bottom lip. "You'd better come in then,"

He backed away and let her through, his hand smoothing over her lower back as she passed, guiding her in.

Clara had never been in his living room before but it was exactly how she imagined. A chocolate brown, cosy looking leather sofa and arm-chairs, blankets across the backs; mahogany bookshelves that seemed to go on forever adorned with books and photos; a record player that was spinning a Leonard Cohen album softly; a TV on the wall and a wooden coffee table littered with more books, mugs and newspapers. There was also a piano and guitar in the corner, which surprised Clara - he'd never told her he could play. She made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Unless you looked closely, it'd look like any other bachelor pad. But Clara noticed the lego stacked in the corner, the framed drawings on the wall, the colouring books and crayons on the table, the Thomas the Tank Engine backpack and a tiny pair of shoes by the chair. These little elements of Roland made her smile.

"Sorry, I didn't have a chance to tidy up," said the Doctor, flitting around to pick up mugs and plates and carrying them to the kitchen next to the living room.

"It's ok, I came over unannounced," she said "Plus, you have a five year old but it's already tidier than my flat in here,"

The Doctor chuckled as he entered the room again.

"Sit down, make yourself at home," he said "Apologies if you find any stray crayons - we had a bit of a monster colouring session this afternoon,"

Clara sat, slipping off her shoes as she watched the Doctor put away some robots and toy cars.

"Where is the little sick person?" asked Clara.

"Oh, he's just in the bath," His eyes widened. "Actually, I better go make sure he hasn't drowned or anything."

He rushed out of the room, making Clara chuckle. Then he stuck his head around the door again.

"Wine glasses are on the side, I'll be back in a second," He winked and smiled boyishly in the way that made Clara tingle.

A few minutes later, Clara was leafing through one of the newspapers, sipping her wine whilst she waited for the Doctor to return.

"Someone wanted to say hello,"

Clara turned and saw the Doctor carrying Roland on his hip - he looked adorable in blue spaceship pyjamas and he had slightly damp hair from the bath.

"Hey buddy, I heard you were poorly - how are you feeling?"

"I had a sicky tummy, Clara," he said in a small voice, cuddling into his Dad's neck. "But I haven't been sick since lunchtime now,"

"Well, that's good news. I'm sure you'll feel much better in the morning. Has your Dad been taking good care of you?"

"Yep. We did colouring and read stories and played robots,"

"That's just what I like to do when I'm poorly," said Clara with a smile.

"Right, come on Roly-Poly, let's get into bed. Say goodnight to Clara," said the Doctor, jiggling Roland on his hip.

"Goodnight Clara," he mumbled, voice already thick with tiredness.

"Goodnight Roland,"

The Doctor put him down. "Go and get tucked in and I'll be up in a second,"

Roland tottered off down and climbed up the stairs.

The Doctor leaned down, his arms bearing his weight on the back of the sofa next to where Clara was sitting.

"Sorry, I've left you all alone since you've got here,"

Clara touched his forearm. "Doctor, stop apologising."

"I know, but-"

Clara reached up to cradle the back of his head, scratching his scalp lightly and pulling him down a little to kiss him gently.

"Go and tuck your son into bed," she whispered with a grin, mouth still close to him.

"Five minutes and I'm all yours," he replied, nipping at her bottom lip lightly. He moved away and went back upstairs.

"OK, he's finally asleep." It took a little longer than five minutes, but the Doctor eventually appeared in the doorway again. "Sorry, he's just a bit restless, but he'll be alright,"

The Doctor sunk down on the sofa next to Clara, smoothing his hands over his face and sighing. Clara suddenly thought that he was probably extremely tired and she should have left him in peace tonight.

"Shall I go?" she said, leaning forward to put her glass on the table, "You're probably exhausted and I should have called before coming round,"

The Doctor caught her wrist, turning her back to him, a soft smile on his face. He cupped her cheek gently.

"C'mere," he whispered.

Clara leaned into his hand and into his kiss as he tipped his head to the side and curled his hand around her neck. He felt warm and tired as his lips brushed hers and she just wanted to sink into him and never let go. Her fingers found the tiny holes in his jumper and it made her smile against his mouth. He rested his forehead against hers.

"Please don't go," he muttered. Clara caught a glimpse of his vulnerability again. Maybe he needed her more than she realised. If this was the first relationship he'd had since his wife passed away, since Roland was born, then of course he'd be insecure, worried, fragile. He was afraid she would leave him. She gripped his jumper in her hands.

"I won't," she whispered, leaning her face against his "I won't."

He sighed and trailed his hand from her neck down her arm. "Want to watch a black and white film now?"

She smiled, back to joking around again. "Only if it's got Jimmy Stewart in it,"

A few hours later, the credits on Mr Smith Goes To Washington started to roll. Clara was tucked into the Doctor's side, his arm around her and their legs outstretched and tangled together on the coffee table.

"Isn't Jimmy Stewart great?" She said, not moving from her position, her hand toying with holes in his jumper again. "So charming and handsome,"

"Do you have a crush on Jimmy Stewart?" he asked, looking down at her with a smirk.

Clara smiled and then shifted, drawing her legs up and over his lap so she was straddling him. The Doctor also shifted, his feet back on the floor and his hands instinctively going to her hips. Clara rested her arms on his shoulders and leaned closer, watching his pupils dilate.

"Not as much as I have a crush on you,"

The Doctor closed his eyes and tipped his chin up, desperate for her lips but she kept them just out of reach. He felt good underneath her and Clara wanted to etch everything to memory. His hands moved to her thighs, brushing over her bottom which made her gasp in surprise. She dragged her thumb over his bottom lip and touched the creases at the corners of his eyes.

She loved being this close to him. She could smell his citrusy aftershave, the wine on his breath, and the distinctive warm, comforting smell that was purely him. She could take in all of his beautiful face - the lines on his forehead, the faint shadow of stubble on his chin, his thick eyebrows and thin lips, and gorgeous grey locks. He opened his eyes and looked at her looking at him, their eyes locked and saying more than either of them could possibly know.

"Kiss me," he murmured, and with that she gave into him. Her mouth met his in a deep, heat-filled kiss, her hands slid into his hair. When she moved, she rubbed against him in a way that made them both groan; denim on denim, the Doctor already hard against her. Clara rolled her hips and he growled, biting her lower lip gently and wrapping his arms around her tighter.

"God, you're so sexy, do you know that?" he said hotly, his Scottish accent more pronounced in his arousal.

Clara slowly trailed her nose down his, making him hold his breath in anticipation.

"I really want you, Doctor," she whispered, her hands now sneaking underneath his jumper, pushing it up and feeling the warm skin underneath. He let her take it off and he blushed when her eyes roamed his chest - he's slim but defined, with brown hair dusting his chest and stomach, a thick line from his belly button disappearing below his belt. Clara could see in his eyes that he was worried about his looks, his build, his age. To assuage his fears, Clara touched his soft stomach, fingertips ghosting up his sensitive sides and then palms smoothing up his chest. She leaned in and kissed his collar bone, his neck, his chin.

"You're perfect," she said.

In response, the Doctor kissed her mouth again, hard, his long fingers now unbuttoning her shirt, letting it hang loosely from her shoulders. His hands explored the new skin and stroked up her back, keeping her close to him as she pushed her hips against his. Clara reached for his belt buckle, but then…

"Daddy! Daddy!"

A small voice from upstairs wrenched the pair back to reality and the Doctor groaned, resting his forehead against Clara's. She chuckled and cupped his face in her hands, her thumb dragging over his bottom lip.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Clara peppered his mouth with kisses, hands sinking into the soft hair at the back of his head. "It's ok" she said "It's ok." She sighed and pulled back to look at him, his hands at her waist again, his thumbs stroking her hip bones.

Then another small cry came from upstairs. "Daaaddy!"

They both chuckled wryly. Clara kissed him. "Go," she said, climbing off of his lap, immediately missing the warmth that radiated from him.

He caught her hand. "Will you still be here when I get back?" he said sincerely.

She nodded, smiling reassuringly. "Of course I will,"

The Doctor shrugged on his jumper again and ambled up the stairs to see to Roland. Clara sat back against the sofa with a sigh, buttoning up her shirt again. They probably shouldn't have let things get so far with Roland sick and just upstairs, but by God did it feel good. Now Clara had felt his hot skin under her palms, felt his arms wrapped around her bare back, felt his hardness pressing against her through their jeans, she wanted it more than ever. She wanted him more than ever. She pressed the heel of her hands to her eyes, trying to fight the urge to slip her hands inside her jeans and do something with the arousal that had built from sitting in his lap.

He drove her crazy, turned her on like no-one had before and could make her hot with one sweeping gaze; but he was also gentle and kind and loving and made her laugh. All she could think about was him and what their future would look like - the three of them. Yep, Clara was quite sure she was completely in love with him.

When the Doctor returned, Clara was lying on the sofa, the wine making her eyes droop a little. The Doctor dropped in behind her, quickly tangling their legs together and wrapping his arm around her waist. He put his head in her neck and pulled her tightly against him.

"Hello," she said with a smile, settling into his warmth. "How is he?"

"He's ok - just bad dreams so I sat and talked with him until he fell asleep again."

Clara linked her fingers with his in front of her stomach.

"You're such a good Dad," she said "It's so clear that he's completely besotted with you."

"Thank you," he said sincerely, placing a kiss in her neck.

After a few moments, Clara took a deep breath and then spoke quietly. "He's not the only one who's besotted,"

She felt the Doctor still, his face still in her neck. Then his nose stroked along the skin and he tightened his grip around her.

"Do you mean that?" he whispered "Good God, I hope you do,"

"I mean it," she said "Of course I mean it,"

She was sure that she felt the Doctor sigh in relief as he settled his head behind hers, breath warm on the nape of her neck.

Just as sleep was about to overcome them both, Clara heard the Doctor say, "Me too."

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading!**_

 _ **Balancing writing with work is not fun. Hopefully I'll have another chapter for you soon. I think there will be another 2 or 3. Thank you for your lovely reviews :)**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N - Hello! Sorry for the delay and sorry this is such a short chapter! I've got one more planned, but I have a few other ideas so might carry on for a few more! Let me know what you think or if you have any ideas you'd like me to explore!**_

* * *

 **Chapter Ten**

It was early, Clara knew that for sure. She could tell by the soft and pale morning light in the room. It took her a few minutes to remember where she was. She was on an unfamiliar sofa, with an unfamiliar crick in her neck but with a familiar arm around her waist.

Still in a sleepy daze, Clara slowly realised that she was in the Doctor's house, on the Doctor's sofa, with the Doctor pressed deliciously against her back. His arm slung over her hip, his breath warm on the back of her neck, and his long legs tangled with hers. She never wanted to move. She felt warm and safe and loved and protected…and happy. Trying not to wake him, she snuggled into him a bit more and pulled his arm more tightly around her. She felt him press a sleepy kiss at the base of her neck before he settled again. Bliss.

A short while later, Clara was feeling the effects of spending a night of a sofa, and although she liked the warmth of the Doctor's sleepy embrace, her back was telling her to move. She stretched a little and opened her eyes. When she did she almost screeched loudly when she was greeted by Roland standing stock still and silent in front her of her.

"Roland," she said, trying to control her heartbeat which was recovering from the fright "You scared me,"

"Oh…sorry,"

She smiled at him "It's ok." She shifted from her position, trying not to wake the Doctor who was still sleeping peacefully.

"How're you feeling?" She whispered "You hungry?"

Roland nodded, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Clara managed to get up silently, and she looked back at the Doctor's sleeping form.

"Let's leave your Dad to sleep and go and make some pancakes," said Clara, taking Roland's hand. "You'll have to show me where the eggs and flour are though!"

"I _love_ pancakes," said Roland with a grin, leading Clara towards the kitchen.

When he woke, it took the Doctor a few minutes to remember why he was on the sofa. Then he remembered last night - he remembered Clara on top of him, her hips in his hands, her lips on his throat and her palms on his chest. He remembered her hands going to his belt and god, how he wished it didn't stop there.

Then he remember the soft tone of her voice when she said Roland wasn't the only one who was besotted with him. The thought of Clara feeling that way about him made his chest tighten and his lips quirk into a grin. She was gorgeous and loving and brilliant and his. He was head over heels in a way he hadn't been since he met River - and even that felt different. With River, they'd known each other a long time, since they were kids, and their love and marriage was slow and easy and comfortable. With Clara, he felt an intense burning desire like nothing else. She was like a supernova - a sudden shining light in his life, exciting him and pulling him towards her and exploding to create something new.

He smoothed his hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes, suddenly aware that the woman taking up all his thoughts wasn't actually anywhere to be seen. As he came to his senses, he caught the sounds and smells coming from the kitchen - he heard his son squealing in delight and Clara's soft laugh, the sizzle of something in a pan and the mouth-watering aroma of buttery pancakes. When he went to investigate, the sight that met him made him pause and smile.

Roland had a long apron tied around his waist, but still brushing the floor like it was a long skirt, and was up on a stool next to Clara who was flipping pancakes, making Roland giggle each time.

"Right, can you grab the blueberries, chef?" Clara asked him. Roland passed her the punnet and they dropped fruit into the batter in the pan. "How many blueberries do you think Dad will want? Four, five, SIX?"

Roland giggled. "Let's give him more because he's bigger,"

The Doctor grinned, enjoying watching his son and his girlfriend interacting so naturally and joyfully.

"Actually," he said loudly, announcing his presence "Dad would like at least EIGHT blueberries, I think,"

The pair wheeled around and the Doctor burst out laughing when he caught signs of their flour covered faces.

"What is going on out here then?" He said, moving closer to them "Are you making a mess?"

"We're making pancakes, Daddy!"

"Pancakes on a Sunday morning," he said, slipping his hand around Clara's waist and leaning down to kiss her. He caught her gaze and spoke softly. "What could be better?"

"Can Clara stay over again?" Said Roland, making them both look at him. The Doctor smiled and looked at Clara.

"If that's ok with you?"

"Yeah, it's great" he said, eating one of the blueberries from the pack "and Daddy told me that he likes you as much as I like chocolate buttons, so he must like you a WHOLE lot because I love chocolate buttons the mostest out of everything in the world,"

The Doctor blushed, reminded of the fact that 4 year olds do listen to what you say sometimes. He looked at Clara who had shifted towards him, grinning. She pressed herself against him lightly and threaded her hand through his hair on the back of his head.

"You like me as much as chocolate buttons?"

He smiled, embarrassed but overwhelmed by her. He tilted his head down to hers and their noses brushed.

He nodded and whispered. "As much as chocolate buttons."

Then Roland's squeals tore their tender gaze. "Watch out, the pancake is burning!"

* * *

 _ **A/N - Sorry it's not a long chapter, but I wanted to give you guys something rather than keep you hanging on whilst I figure out the next few chapters. Let me know if you'd rather me carry on with fluff and families and maybe bring Missy/Clara's family in, or whether you'd prefer it tied off nicely in the next chapter as I had originally planned? Decisions of a fan fiction writer!**_


	11. Chapter 11

**_Hello again! Sorry I went AWOL after the last chapter - I've been deliberating over this one for a while and haven't had the guts to post it. I was intending to make this the final chapter, but wanted to see these two finally tangled between the sheets and didn't want to crow-bar it into this chapter. Anyway, apologies again for keeping you all hanging on - hopefully this makes up for it! :)_**

 _Chapter Eleven_

"Well, what do you think?"

Clara stood in the doorway of her bathroom, looking out at the Doctor who was laying on her bed, feet still touching the floor. His head shot up when he heard her voice and his jaw nearly hit the ground.

It was Amy's 30th birthday and she was holding a big 1920s style party, so Clara had decided to make an effort. She had on a sparkly black and gold dress that hugged every inch of her perfectly. The neckline disappeared teasingly into her cleavage, leaving just enough the imagination. She had bangles on her wrists, and a gold clip holding her hair in place. It was all worth it for the look on the Doctor's face.

"Clara," he said, standing up. His intense gaze swept over her. "You look…you look…stunning,"

He took her hand and twirled her around. "Beautiful," he whispered.

"Let me have a look at you, mister," said Clara, stepping back and taking him in. He had also made an effort and wore a black three-piece tuxedo and a long necktie. God, he looked good.

Clara smoothed her hands up his chest and toyed with the buttons on his waistcoat. She tilted her head up towards him.

"You wearing a tuxedo is a huge turn on, do you know that?"

He blushed and averted his gaze.

"What's wrong?" she asked, kissing the underside of his chin gently.

"Nothing, I just…" He looked back at her. "Are you sure I should come to this party?"

She looked surprised. "Of course, Amy invited you too. What's brought this on?"

"I just feel old, and you look beautiful, and I don't want you to feel embarrassed about-"

Clara pressed her finger to his lips, silencing him.

"You can stop right there. We've had this conversation before, and in no way, shape or form am I embarrassed to be with you. I find that idea absurd. If anything, I feel the opposite - I want to show you off to all my friends. My tall, sexy silver-fox who is just about the kindest, cleverest person I know."

He smiled a little but she continued.

"But more importantly, I don't care what anyone thinks - I only care what you think."

She tugged his head down a little and touched her forehead against his.

"What do you think?" She whispered, fingers stroking the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

He smiled and kissed her mouth, hands sliding around her waist, the satin under his palms, and he felt his worries leave him. All that was left was her.

"I think that you, Clara Oswald, are wonderful," he said in return.

She smiled, pleased to have assuaged his insecurities.

"Right, let's go before we're late!"

oOoOoOo

Amy had hired out a big marquee for her birthday which was decorated with fairy lights and black and gold glittery decorations and balloons; chairs and tables with white cloths were gathered around the edges, making space for inevitable cheesy dancing later on; a bar with cocktails and wine and a birthday cake stood at the back. The place looked great and was already in full swing.

As they entered, Clara felt the Doctor tense next to her. She reached for his hand, sliding her fingers in between his and smiling at him. She reached up on tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

"I'm so glad you're here with me," she said. In return he squeezed her hand tighter and kissed the side of her head.

"I'm just thinking about being able to take that dress off of you once this is all over," he said, that boyish grin on his face again and a twinkle in his eye which made Clara flush.

Before they could go any further, the birthday girl stopped them.

"Well don't you two just look amazing!" Amy almost yelled across the room, before quickly leaving her other conversation to slide over to them.

Clara and Amy hugged and the Doctor kissed her cheek, wishing her happy birthday.

"Amy, the place looks great!" Said Clara "There's so many people here!"

"I know! I didn't think anyone would come!" Amy grinned and glanced around the room. "By the way," said Amy, shuffling a bit closer and lowering her voice, "Rachel Grant is here."

Clara rolled her eyes. "Why on earth did you invite her?! She always causes a drama."

"I think I was a bit drunk when I sent out invites to old University friends. Samantha Lake and Jenny Parker are here too, floating around after Rachel just like they used to. Try to steer clear of them if you can."

"Thanks for the heads up."

Amy grinned. "You two go and enjoy yourselves - I want to see you on that dance floor later!"

With that, Amy went off to say hello to another guest. The Doctor pressed his hand to the small of Clara's back and they went in to find somewhere to sit.

oOoOoOo

"Do you want another drink?" He asked, his hand sliding over her thigh in a way which made his request seem anything but innocent. They'd been sitting together in a corner, talking and drinking and people watching as they enjoyed the music.

"Please. White or red wine, surprise me."

Before he could move away, she touched his chin and edged him towards her, kissing his lips gently. He smiled.

"Be right back."

After he'd gone, the women that Amy had warned her about earlier floated over with big fake smiles.

"Who'd have thought that Clara Oswald would be the one to bag herself a sugar-daddy?!" teased Rachel, slightly spitefully as she sat down next to her. The others giggled but Clara rolled her eyes.

"I can assure you whole-heartedly that he's in no way a sugar daddy."

"Well there can't be many reasons you'd tie yourself with a guy twice your age who has a kid already…" smirked Rachel.

Clara laughed in disbelief. She hadn't spoken to these people in years, and yet here they were chuckling about her love life and had clearly been gossiping about her. Rachel had always been a bit spiteful since Clara went out with Rachel's ex - for about a month, about 10 years ago. She'd never let it truly let it go, no matter how much she said she had.

"It's nice that you guys find so much spare time to judge who I'm seeing - it's flattering really,' said Clara, feeling the heat of anger rise in her cheeks. "And although I couldn't care much less about your opinions on who I chose to spend my time with, and I know you're picking for drama because your lives are so void of love or excitement, but I'll humour you just this once…"

Clara looked Rachel dead in the eyes. "I have never known a man like him. He is whole-heartedly kind, the perfect gentleman and the best father; he is funny and clever and talented and makes me happier than anyone ever has. I am completely in love with him and he's more deserving of that love than anyone. So maybe keep your snide comments to yourself from now on and think about the human being on the other end of your words."

Rachel lowered her gaze, a bit embarrassed. The others shuffled, feeling awkward.

Clara let out a breath and then a familiar Scottish voice piped up behind her.

"Wine anyone?"

Clara swallowed, wondering how much he'd heard. She stood up and turned towards him. Her anger dissipated completely as soon as she felt his warm gaze, the reassurance in his eyes.

She took the glasses from him, set them down and then took his hand, leading him out of the marquee and into the fresh night air. She needed to breathe and calm down. She needed him.

Outside, away from the noise of the guests, she took a deep calming breath, smoothing her hands through her hair.

"Are you ok?" The Doctor asked softly.

She turned to him, concern on his face. She nodded and stepped closer to him.

"Yeah, I just…I can't believe…I just…"

The Doctor closed his arms around her waist and brought her into his chest.

"I know," he said "I'm sorry."

"No, don't you dare apologise - *I'm* sorry for the horrid people I used to be friends with," she said, her hands curling around his shoulders and holding him tightly. "How much did you hear?"

He smiled into her neck. "I didn't hear what they said, but heard enough to know what was going on." He kissed her underneath her ear. "Thank you for defending me, whatever they said."

After a few seconds of quiet and soft breathing, the Doctor spoke again. "I heard you say that you love me."

Clara stilled and then pulled back to look at him. She hadn't planned on having this conversation tonight.

"I do," she said quietly.

He touched her cheek and smiled, thumb against her jawline.

"Say it again," he whispered, leaning closer. "Please."

Clara closed her eyes and felt her heart hammering against her chest. She met his gaze again. She wanted him to feel her words entirely.

"I'm in love with you, John Smith - completely and utterly."

His smile widened and he looked at her for a few seconds, drinking her in completely and wondering how on earth he got so lucky. Then he brought his other hand up and cupped her face. He breathed a soft laugh, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers.

"You used my name," he whispered, thumb stroking her cheek.

She laughed, hands gripping his jacket and pushing herself into his warmth. "It felt strange - I think I still prefer 'Doctor'".

He grinned and closed the small gap to kiss her. Pressing his lips against hers, he felt her mouth open up under his and let him in. She'd told him she loved him and it felt great. Clara felt happiness flowing through her veins like never before and the Doctor was sure her kiss tasted sweeter somehow. Her hands slid up his chest, teeth grazing his bottom lip slightly before drawing him back into her. They were in the middle of a field, kissing like no-one was watching. His kisses slowed and shortened and then he pulled back to look at her again.

He pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and then lowered his hands to her waist again.

"You know," he said, averting his gaze to his shoes, "after River died, I thought I was done, I thought that was it for me." He sighed. "But then you came along, Clara Oswald."

He stroked her hip and raised his eyes to hers again, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. That small smile that always made her melt. "I fell for you the morning you let me walk you to your office in the rain, I was just too terrified to do anything about it. But then by pure chance, I show up at a colleague's house for dinner and there you are, with your big eyes and your smiles and your short dress and I knew I had to do something. And by god, am I glad that I did because I've never been happier."

Clara let the tear that had been lingering in the corner of her eye fall gently down her cheek, unable to hold back emotion any longer. He wiped it away with his thumb.

"What I'm trying to say," he said quietly "is that I love you too, Clara Oswald."

Clara grinned and went up on her tip-toes, wrapping her arms around his neck and hovering just above his mouth.

"I was wondering when you were going to get to that part," she breathed against his lips, kissing him before he had the chance to respond.

When she pulled back, to her surprise, he burst out laughing.

"What are you laughing at, chuckles?" She asked with a grin, arms still tightly around neck keeping them close, hands smoothing through his hair.

"I just wasn't expecting to have this conversation in the middle of a field outside a marquee."

Clara laughed too, turning around briefly to listen to the noise and frivolities behind them. It felt like miles away.

"Where would rather have had this conversation?" She teased.

"Hmmm, preferably in my bed with you naked underneath me whilst you got your breath back from furious love-making," he said in a low growl, pulling her tighter against his body, making her giggle.

"Hmmm, this is better, I think" she said "I might have been in such a pleasure filled haze that I might not have heard a word you said."

He laughed and then tipped his head down, kissing her softly once more.

"Shall we go back inside before they all think we've done a runner?" He asked, nodding his head in the direction of the marquee.

"Only if you'll dance with me," she said, curling her fingers around his.

"Fine, but only because you told me you loved me."

They grinned and headed back in.

* * *

 ** _Thanks for sticking with me, friends. Hopefully there won't be such a long gap till the next and final chapter!_**

 ** _Ax_**


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